


Like a Prayer

by bar2d2s



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Finger Sucking, Hand and mouth stuff but like. Literally, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22381483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bar2d2s/pseuds/bar2d2s
Summary: Sometimes you’ve just gotta make out with your best friend on your back porch, twenty feet away from your mom. You know, for science.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 135





	Like a Prayer

**Author's Note:**

> Another thing I’ve been sitting on since October of last year.

His mom had taught him to pray when Richie was just shy of four years old. “This way, god can hear you when you talk to Him.” She’d said, but Richie really hopes god isn’t listening right now.

Amazingly, his trashmouth stopped trying to form swears ages ago, sticking to the tried and true blasphemies that his mother might have been furious over, if she bothered going to temple more than five times a year. It had all started with Eddie kissing the back of his hand as they made fun of Ben and Beverly. And then he’d kissed the palm. Then his index finger. His ring finger. His thumb.

And then Eddie had slid Richie’s middle finger into his mouth up to the first knuckle, his tongue pressed to the pad, and he was done for.

They’re still making eye contact, and _that_ is what’s causing his brain to shut down. Eddie is taking tiny draws on his finger, teeth scraping back and forth across his nail, staring into his eyes with an expression that’s half fear, half something Richie’s only ever caught on himself, in the reflections of windows before he schools his face back into something less obvious.

He wishes they were in the bunker, wrapped up together in the hammock, about to completely defile that secret space instead of here, out in the open space that was Eddie’s back porch. Where his mother could walk out at any minute and catch them. Richie bit back a whimper, still muttering a steady stream of “Oh, god” and “Oh, fuck” as Eddie’s eyelids started to droop. His tongue suddenly swiped over the sides of his finger, pulling it in until his lips were grazing Richie’s second knuckle, and Richie hissed in surprise.

“I’m gonna die and they won’t even be able to bury me somewhere nice.” He whined, shifting in his seat next to Eddie on the little porch swing. His other hand creeps its way onto Eddie’s thigh and that’s all he needs. This is all he wants in life, the touch of Eddie’s mouth and the feel of Eddie’s skin and he could die at any time and it would be of happiness.

Rest In Peace Richie Tozier, his headstone would say. Dead at seventeen, but totally worth it.

Eddie’s pupils are fat, and the sweat on Richie’s face is causing his glasses to slide down his nose. He wants to take them off, but then he won’t be able to see Eddie anymore, not unless he climbs into his lap. Presses their bodies close enough together that they meld into one. Snap the swing’s chains under their weight.

“Eddie-“ His voice is high and pathetic, and he’s panting like he’s just run a marathon, but Eddie still has both hands wrapped around his wrist. His mouth slipped off Richie’s finger for a moment and before it could even get cold, he pulled it right back in, along with Richie’s index finger.

Richie was losing his mind. He knew Eddie had never kissed anyone but his mom, which meant that this was probably something he’d done to _himself_ , and the idea of Eddie alone somewhere, eyes closed as he sucked on his own fingers was pushing him over the edge of decency. “Y-you’re gonna ruin me for everybody else, Kaspbrak.” He manages to gasp, and Eddie snorts. He pulls his mouth away. Richie mourns.

“Funny, that’s what your mom said last night.” Eddie whispers, one hand high up enough on his leg that he _knows_ Richie knows that he can feel things. And then he squeezes, and Richie is gone.

The only thing that saves them from Eddie’s mom realizing something was up was Eddie quickly leaning forward and slamming their lips together. It hurts. Richie’s pretty sure that one of Eddie’s teeth split his lip. They kiss slower as Richie comes down from his high, slumping forward to rest his forehead on Eddie’s shoulder. “Dude.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s gonna kill your mom, but I think I have to dump her.”

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me again, trashmouth.”


End file.
